Royal Canopy Waltz
by Yandere Shoujo
Summary: Saitama attends a hero's ball and doesn't care in the slightest. Fubuki does. No pairings. Shipping goggles optional.


A/N: Don't worry fanfics! I'll save you from your SaiGenos overlords with something _kinda_ straiiiight!

Royal Canopy Waltz

Saitama would have been perfectly fine wearing normal clothes, or better yet, his hero's uniform. But there he was, in unbearable dress suit and tie. Saitama could convince Genos of a lot of things, but he couldn't convince him _not_ to buy a designer suit he'd likely never even look at again.

It was some sort of formal event Saitama didn't feel the need to attend, but all B rank and above were invited. It was an optional event, but the invitation had not too subtly stressed the importance of donations, sponsorship, charity and other hero politics Saitama didn't bother remembering unless it directly pertained to him.

At a round table Fubuki sat on one side, and one of the Tank Top heroes sat to another. The heroes had been assigned tables based on their class, and Saitama simply could tell Genos was absolutely restless having to sit at the head table with all the other S ranks. The B class heroes got the round tables that weren't exactly bad, just out of the way. A long table was situated in the middle of the room for A class and special guests. The head table stood in front of some fancy screen and was reserved toe S class and the even more special guests.

There appeared to be quite a number of important looking people, not like Saitama knew who they were, yet the S rank heroes table was clearly missing a few since their chairs weren't completely filled.

There was a single factor that got Saitama to attend the stupid thing.

Free food.

Free high class food.

The ball room was rather pretty with all kinds of fancy lighting and a wood floor so shiny it could be a brown mirror. But none of that concerned or impressed him at all.

Some old person was talking on a microphone and Saitama placed his elbows on the table, resting his chin in interlocked fingers. All he wanted was the food.

Saitama was far from paying any attention and only came from his light dozing to see a plate being placed in front of him. The steaming dish looked delicious and his mouth watered. It even had a side dish of his favorite vegetable, cabbage.

Fork in hand, Saitama had dug in.

"Saitama!" a voice hissed.

Fubuki was giving him an exasperated look.

"What?" he asked with a mouth full of cabbage.

"Just what's your _problem_?"

"What do you mean what's my _problem_?"

"You're gobbling up the food like an animal! Can't you eat like a normal person?"

"Why do you care how I eat?"

Fubuki took a quick glance around the room, but no one was looking their way, thankfully.

" You're being an embarrassment." She scolded.

"Why the hell are you embarrassed?"

Fubuki groaned and started on her own plate. Back straight, she ate with dignity. The velvet, sleeveless, dark green dress she wore accentuated her curves and in she had all the appearance of a true lady. Black lace gloves were folded neatly in her lap atop an expensive looking hand purse. Though Saitama had ignored her deliberate display of proper manners to go back to his own food.

Unbeknownst to them both, Tank Top Black hole was doing his best to stay quiet and not intervene, politely eating his own food. Though the tension was making him really wish he could be at any other table.

There were more spokesmen and people talking from the main table, but Saitama ignored them all, instead indulging himself with seconds.

Saitama slouched back into his chair and closed his eyes. He was beyond satisfied and the food had been delicious. Something whacked his knuckles and he looked down to see a floating spoon. Fubuki was glaring at him again.

" _What?_ "

"Where you raised by monkeys or wolves? Sit up." She hissed.

"Why? I'm full, I wanna relax."

"Listen. My image is actually important to me and I am not having it dragged in the mud because you're incapable of acting like an adult!"

Their hissing had escalated and one of Fubuki group members had joined in.

"Boss, are you alright?" Eyelashes whispered from another table.

Red in the face, Fubuki nervously pulled a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm fine."

Fubuki's face burned as she quietly fidgeted with her fingers in her lap. The other attendees didn't seem to look their way, but she was absolutely nervous that someone else had seen or heard them.

She shot an icy glare to Saitama as he leaned back in his chair, staring at the chandeliers of the ball room with passing interest.

Finally, Shicchi, one of the leading figures of the Association cleared his throat making some announcement. There was clapping, and Saitama half-heartedly clapped as well. When the chandelier lights brightened and music began to play from a live band, Fubuki rounded on Saitama.

"Do you have _any_ respect for yourself as a hero?"

Saitama looked at her then back to the ceiling.

"I do. I just don't care about being pompous about it."

"Teacher!"

Genos was at Saitama's side and glaring yellow colored daggers at the woman. His suit was identical to Saitama's only missing the sleeves as it had been tailor made for his arms.

"I observed your exchange with enhanced hearing and vision. Teacher. Your ways are ideal and pure in nature, and I completely agree! But you, Ms. Blizzard of Hell, were out of line."

Burning heat flushed across the woman's face.

"Y-you heard all that?"

"Ma'am!" Eyelashes and Mountain Ape had joined the others at the table.

Tank Top Black hole nervously looked at the small party gathering and he went off to go to find a different crowd to hang around with.

"Are you alright? You seemed rather distressed." Eyelashes asked.

With a bright red face, Fubuki gathered her things and hastily walked out of the ballroom.

Saitama felt a bead of sweat form when he saw the situation. Genos was going to no doubt end up blowing up half if not all of the ballroom if he got into a fight, and the few members of Fubuki's group looked more than ready to defend their precious boss. And if there was a fight, he did not want to be sent the bill for damages when a single plate probably cost him his rent.

"W-wait! I'll uh- go get her! You guys just…yeah." Saitama hastily followed after the woman, leaving a gust of wind in his wake.

Fubuki had rounded a corner and nearly ran straight into Saitama as he appeared in front of her.

"Look."

"What?"

Saitama saw the barely held back tears in the woman's eyes as she folded her arms and kept her lips in a tightly sealed line. But they still quivered.

"Look… I- I was… I'm sorry?" Saitama attempted. His shoulders bent and he rubbed the back of his head. "I'm not used to this kinda stuff, so it's not really my forte, ya know?"

Fubuki sniffed.

"You don't know just how hard I've worked for my status. And you! You embarrassed me in front of _all_ those people!"

"Well- what was I supposed to do? Let you lecture me like a kid?"

"Because you _act_ like a kid!"

Saitama was quiet. Fubuki brushed passed him and he grabbed her by the wrist.

"Wait."

"Let me go!"

"Just hear me out, ok?"

The woman blinked several times then spoke.

"What?"

"Could you, uh, teach me how to be an adult?"

Fubuki stared into his eyes for several seconds. Just as Saitama as about to let go she relaxed.

"You're an even bigger monkey than Mountain Ape."

Saitama was relieved to see that the room was still intact and there weren't any pieces of Genos scattered all over the place.

"Ma'am you alright?" Maintain Ape asked with concern.

Fubuki nodded and placed her gloves and hand purse back on the table.

"Watch that for me. Saitama, come along."

Saitama inwardly groaned as he was lead to the dance floor.

There were several other pairs that danced slowly in the large space that separated the tables and the main table. Saitama stiffly allowed one hand to be placed on Fubuki's back, and the other in her hand.

With all the grace of a monkey on stilts, Saitama followed the woman's directions in the basics of a waltz. She somehow moved her foot away just in time every time he nearly stepped on her, and he continued to stumble and falter. There were a few giggles and snorts, yet Fubuki didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

She was ever graceful and wore the most smug smirk on her face the entire time.

A tick formed on Saitama's forehead but he bit the inside of his cheek and endured.

Fubuki seemed to be enjoying herself as she stepped perfectly to the tempo of the song, her back straight, and her arm never falling even when Saitama's did. They moved slowly, and eventually Saitama had gotten the steps down. But it took all of his conscious effort not to suddenly loose his posture or footing.

As the song ended, Fubuki politely bowed.

"It was a pleasure dancing with you Mr. Caped Baldy."

Saitama grit his teeth.

"You too Ms. Blister from Hell."

Saitama cringed as his tie tightened around his neck.

"Pardon me, but if it's not a bother may I have this next song with you?" a handsome young man said with a bow. Fubuki blinked in surprise.

"Why yes, of course."

Saitama stuck his lounge out then returned to his chair where Genos was being flanked by pretty looking women and girls.

"Teacher, are you alright?" he said, parting through the small pool of fans. Saitama flopped back in his chair, leaning one arm over the back and loosening his tie.

"Yeah, great… though…" Saitama grinned. "Why don't you head out onto the dance floor. I want to see how my student preforms."


End file.
